


A Beneficial Arrangement

by woodwind



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Anal Sex, Bondage, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sexual Content, Size Kink, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-26
Updated: 2016-03-26
Packaged: 2018-05-29 06:45:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6363634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/woodwind/pseuds/woodwind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They’ve tried many things together in the last few months. Written for the DA kink meme.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Beneficial Arrangement

They’ve tried many things together in the last few months.

Solas has let Bull suck his cock, his tongue surprisingly agile, warm and wet as anything. He’s let Bull tie him down and flog his ass with a slender wooden rod, until it left welts on his skin, until he was begging hoarsely to please, please let me come, begging which would have lit the most shameless knave’s face aflame.

Solas let Bull fuck him with his fingers, his tongue, his cock, toys of every material and shape, some so wide he was sore for days in the aftermath. He’s sucked Bull’s cock, too, letting him thrust into his mouth until he almost gagged for the size of him, felt just how plush the head of it was against his tongue, tasted him come down his throat. A fair share of fucking, himself, though Bull admitted he was better at giving it than receiving. It suited Solas just fine.

Which is why he finds himself here, in Bull’s bedroom, with its patchwork rugs and sagging furniture, kneeling on a cushion as Bull ties his arms behind his back. There’s a low fire in the hearth, the air scented with sweet incense which burns in shallow metal bowls scattered throughout the room. The rope is firm, but not rough against his skin, tied tightly enough that his range of motion is limited, not impossible. Bull carefully laces one end of the rope between his bound wrists to wrap the remaining length around his ankles, so his chest is up, his shoulders back, hips straining forward to keep his balance.

“You look good like this,” Bull praises as he finishes, stepping back to admire the view. His one good eye lingers on the sharpness of Solas’ collarbones, the slenderness of his hips, the firm, muscled swell of his thighs and ass. His skin is pale, dotted with freckles along his shoulders. It’s colored a light pink, growing redder around his cock, which curves up toward his navel, twitching slightly in the warm air.

“Know your watchword?”

Solas draws in a deep breath, shaking around the edges. “Katoh,” he rushes, wetting his lips.

“Everything we discussed still okay?”

Solas nods again.

Bull grins. “First things first,” he begins, loosening the belt around his waist. “You’re gonna get me nice and hard with that lovely mouth, Solas,” the belt drops to the floor, followed by his trousers, and Bull steps out of them to stand before him, cock in hand, “then, I’m going to loosen you up with a new plug. We’ll see how things go from there.”

Solas nods, wetting his lips again, moaning softly when Bull presses the head between his lips. He has to stretch his jaw in order to accommodate Bull’s girth, even with it half-hard as it is, but his lips are full enough to wrap comfortably around the shaft, to suck eagerly at it, just as Bull likes.

Solas laves his tongue beneath the head, pressing firmly at the vein on the underside, feeling Bull’s hand settle at the back of his head, fingers tickling his nape. Solas moans, slurps noisily, more for Bull’s benefit than his, looks up through his lashes to find Bull staring down at him intently, a small smile on his grizzled face.

“You’re good at sucking cock,” he rumbles, tenses when Solas pushes forward to take more into his mouth, “would’a done this sooner if I knew you were so good.”

Solas hums in reply, pulling back and forward again, not forgetting to swirl his tongue around the head, hollowing his cheeks on the next tug backward. Bull grunts, tips his hips forward in a shallow thrust, large hand tightening where it holds his nape. He does this for a while longer, slow, shallow thrusts, Solas moaning unashamedly around him.

Solas feels a Bull’s fingers rubbing behind his ears, his signal to relax; he does, and not a moment later Bull pushes as far into his throat as he can go, lips stretched wide around his length, until the head of his cock presses behind Solas’ tonsils. Bull grinds his hips in savage little rolls, growling all the while, eyelids fluttering when Solas swallows, whines obscenely around the cock in his throat.

He hears Bull curse something in Qunlat, thrusting a few more times before withdrawing, the suddenness of it making Solas gasp, a heavy trail of spit clinging from his lips to Bull’s cock.

Bull pants, drawing his teeth away from his lips. “Good,” he manages, hand still cupped around the other man’s nape, “I think that took even less time than before. Think I should reward you?”

Solas swallows, trying not to fidget against the ropes, to keep his cock from brushing against his stomach. It’s hard and hypersensitive, flushed from root to tip, and he knows the slightest touch would have him rutting into it like an animal.

“Please,” he says in his quietest voice, neither meek nor shy, simply quiet.

Bull makes little noise as he moves toward the dressing stand behind them. Solas hears the tinkling of glass, likely bottles of oils and perfumes, and the heavy noise of a lid being lifted. Bull drops a cushion in front of him, pressing one hand between his shoulder blades.

“Careful, now. Don’t want you to break something on your way down,” Bull is saying as he coaxes him forward, spreading his knees as much as the bindings will allow, until Solas is bent forward, shoulders and head resting on the plush cushion, toes curling into the fabric of the other below his knees.

There’s the swish of something behind him, and before Solas can think on it, it comes down across his ass in a sharp snap. He shouts, lurching forward a little, as the initial sting turns to bright, brittle pain. There’s another slap, harder than the last, and another, higher up his back, timed just perfectly, so that when the sting fades for one stroke it appears for the other.

He moans, fighting the urge to twist away from the pain as Bull begins to slap lightly at his balls, the sting racing up his spine in flashes. The strikes move to his thighs, harder, quicker, until Solas begins to tremble and groan senselessly, not even words, the moment narrowed down into the bright spots of pain. Never enough to truly hurt, just enough for him to feel, to savor, much like the little cakes he enjoys so much.

The pain stops.

Air tunnels through his nostrils as Solas breathes in, lower lip bitten between his teeth. He lets it go, opening his eyes (when had he closed them?) to gaze at what he can of the room, as limited as his vantage point is. 

He feels Bull kneel behind him, sighing brokenly when a warm dribble of oil coats his opening, that sigh breaking fully into a moan when Bull plunges a finger inside him. He needs less and less preparation these days, though it’s still a tight fit, that one finger, as large as it is, larger than any Solas has ever seen on a man.

Another hand smooths up and down his back. “Perfect, Solas. Gonna stretch you really nice. Watch you beg me to fuck you with the plug, then my cock, gonna make you come screaming.”

Solas loosens a soft noise of pleasure, eyes screwing shut, letting out another sigh as Bull pushes down, rubbing his prostate in one hard stroke. Bull rumbles wordlessly, slipping in another finger, pushing them into the first knuckle, then the second, then the last, all the while letting the tips curl downward to stroke that spot again.

“I - Bull, - oh,” is all Solas can manage, as he begins to rock back into Bull’s fingers, panting, moaning, gasping in intervals as Bull increases the pace, the pressure, scissoring his fingers and rolling his wrist.

Bull slaps the flat of his palm against his ass, a loud, satisfying crack of flesh against flesh. Solas yells, the sound bouncing against the stone walls.

“You what, Solas?”

Solas would be ashamed of the sound that escapes him, were they in different circumstances. It’s loud and close to a keening whine.

“Please, Bull, more, fenedhis,” he shifts his shoulders, trying to gain more purchase, to thrust backward, “harder, yes, more fingers, something, please!”

Another smack. “That didn’t answer my question. You what, Solas?”

He clenches his teeth until his jaw pops, his heart lodging itself in his throat. “I want you to fuck me,” he grits out, moaning when Bull slides his fingers out, before plunging them in again. When Bull leans down to kiss one shoulder, Solas can feel the smile pressed against it, the heat of his body like a fire, as if Qunari veins truly are laced with Dragon blood.

Bull is kneeling behind him, now, and there’s more sounds of glass, the pop of a bottle being uncorked. The smell of the oil is sweet, bland, feels less like an oil and more like a gel when Bull rubs it over him, testing his tightness.

Then, he’s pressing the bluntness of something against him, pushing delicately before easing the roundness in. Solas shifts, trying to see what Bull is using, but the angle is wrong; he’s forced to gauge by feeling alone. The plug is heavy, and warm -

“Oh!”

He can’t see it, but he knows Bull is smirking. The plug feels as if it gets larger the further in it goes, then shrinks again, before the next swell is wider than the last. “Fuck,” Solas whines, breathing heavily through his nose. “Bull, yes, so good...”

“Thought you’d like it,” another smack to his ass, lighter, more playful. “It’s got these pretty little swirls on the base. Hand painted.”

Being in little state of mind to reply, Solas makes a note to roll his eyes later.

“Not that you can see it when it’s in your ass. Mmm,” Bull continues pushing it forward, carefully, a hand still against Solas’ back. He rolls the toy experimentally, lighting sparks of pleasure all up Solas’ spine, curling pleasantly into his toes.

“Yes,” he hisses, turning his head against the pillow to muffle the rest of his moans. The plug is fully seated, now. Solas trembles, makes soft pleasured sounds when Bull wiggles it slightly, pouring more oil over his ass, down his thighs, until it drips onto the cushions below.

Bull’s voice is dry, thunders deep in his chest.

“Wish you could see yourself, like this, just for me. Bet you wouldn’t let anyone else in Thedas stretch your ass with a plug.” He wraps one hand around his cock, tugging the foreskin down from the head to run his thumb over the slit,.

Bull doesn’t wait or need a reply. He continues stroking himself, one hand gripping the plug firmly between his fingers, turning it to see Solas’ thighs tense, watch the way his back moves with each breath and moan.

Solas swallows heavily, rolling his hips forward as much as he is able. His cock hangs hard and heavy between his spread thighs, dripping copiously, untouched. Bull makes a sound, wraps his other hand around it to jerk it once, twice, moaning with Solas as he does, as he strokes his own cock faster and faster.

“Think you can take me now?”

Solas can feel his heartbeat in his ears, thrumming, a rushing noise almost as loud as the sound of his own breath. He hears himself beg senselessly, for Bull’s cock or his fingers or more touch, he wants to come, Bull, please please.

Bull smiles, moving to untie the ropes. “As much as I like you tied up, I don’t wanna leave welts,” he explains, unlacing each ankle, unraveling the ropes around Solas’ wrists. He sits up, dizzy, rubbing his wrists, rotating his ankles. No marks or injury, as always.

Solas blinks heavily up at Bull as he leans over, first to check his own handiwork, then to press a sloppy kiss to Solas’ mouth. The stubble of Bull’s facial hair scratches against the smoother skin of his jaw, but Solas pays it no mind, letting Bull deepen the kiss, to maneuver them until he sits astride Bull’s lap.

Bull’s large hands settle on his hips, long enough that he could encircle one hand over each of his thighs. Solas runs his palms across the hard expanse of Bull’s shoulders, more like boulders than flesh, spreading his fingers out across his broad back, amazed, as he always is, that a man with such strength could handle him so carefully...or not, when he asked.

Solas takes Bull’s cock in one hand, breathing shakily through his nose as he positions it against his opening, before sinking down onto it in small increments, the initial stretch shooting sharp slivers of pleasure of his spine.

Bull rests both hands lower on his hips, thumbs pressing into him, tipping his head back with a groan. “That’s it, fuck.”

Solas wets his lips, the muscles in his thighs clenching as he lowers himself further. His head is full of static, clouded by the delicious feeling of Bull stretching him to his limits, the warmth of his cock throbbing insistently with each inch he takes in. Beneath his palms, Solas feels Bull’s shoulders quivering with the effort of not thrusting up, close, so close - yes.

They both groan at the same time as Solas sinks fully onto Bull’s cock, Solas’ hands no longer grasping but scratching down his back, lighting bright red against the gray skin. “Gonna fuck you now,” Bull all but growls, spreading his knees for better leverage and - one hard, brutal thrust has Solas bowing his back and howling, the way slickened with oil so that each of Bull’s thrusts makes absolutely obscene slapping noises, overshadowed by their grunts and groans.

Without thinking, Solas has his teeth in Bull’s neck, biting hard as he’s fucked, without grace or gentleness. Each tug and pull is angled expertly to slam against his prostate, not so much teasing as beating against it, over and over, until his throat is hoarse, until his toes begin to tingle where they’re curled tightly into the cushion below.

Solas hears his own voice saying something, chanting elven nonsense between begging in common, head swimming, every rational thought blown out of him as a breeze through a gaping crack in a wall. He can barely understand himself, much less Bull, who has his arms clenched tightly around his midsection, a solid, crushing weight, as he fucks into Solas harder, harder, until his balls slap against his ass and sweat pours in rivers down his back.

As drawn out as the process is, it takes little time for either of them to come, Bull with a thunderous shout, spilling into the warmth of the other’s body, and Solas with a reedy, desperate cry, pressed against Bull’s shoulder. Solas feels his own seed splash against his stomach, warm, sticky, the bitter smell intermingling with the sweetness of the oil, the saltiness of sweat.

He drops his head to Bull’s shoulder, gasping.

They stay like this for a few moments, catching their breath, willing some feeling back into exhausted limbs. It’s Bull who moves first, spreading Solas out on the cushions which have been knocked aside with their fucking; he throws his arm over his eyes, mouth open to draw air through his teeth.

Bull presses the lip of a cup to his mouth. Solas drinks, the cool water soothing his tired throat, clearing his mind.

“For a sec, I didn’t think you could take that plug,” Bull sighs, as he stretches out beside him, popping knuckles, cracking his neck. “You proved me wrong...again.”

Solas’ laughter is tired but no less genuine. “I have a habit of that.”

He sits up, stretching his legs out before him, arms over his head as he loosens the tense muscles of his back. “That was invigorating as ever, Bull,” he says, blushing when he feels the heat of Bull’s eyes on his body. “I look forward to our next session.”

Bull nods. “Yeah, me too. You gonna be alright getting back yourself?”

Solas is standing, and from his position on the floor, Bull thinks it’s a crying shame that Solas’ clothes hide so much of that lean body.

“I’ll manage, thank you.”

Bull watches Solas dress, offer him one final nod of thanks, and shut the door behind him.


End file.
